


Lance's Guide on How to Embarrass Yourself in Front of Your Insurance Adjuster

by Eilera



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Shiro's a very tall glass of water, Awkward Lance, Basically just Lance drooling over Shiro, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, I REGRET NOTHING, M/M, Romance, Shiro is an insurance claims adjuster, Shy Shiro, lance is super thirsty, shance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 12:30:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14934300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilera/pseuds/Eilera
Summary: “This is for my mama, Hunk. She was so worried about this whole thing. They just finished renovating. I’m not gonna let her down. If my name isn’t Lance fucking Hernandez Martine-holy fuck he’s gorgeous.”“Oh no. No. Lance do-“Lance didn’t even hear him because there was a fucking gorgeous god walking up the path to the front door.(In which Lance is helping his mama with an insurance claim and he was not prepared for the smoking hot insurance adjuster.)





	Lance's Guide on How to Embarrass Yourself in Front of Your Insurance Adjuster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeathByStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/gifts).



> They say to write what you know so here I am, writing a fic about insurance. Because that's what I do for living. I might be maybe projecting some of my frustrations into this fic. It was very therapeutic. :P
> 
> This is my first Shance fic and I just wanted to do something fun and ridiculous. Thanks for making that easy, Lance. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Special thanks to [DeathByStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/works) for beta'ing as usual.

“He’s gonna be here any minute now, Hunk! I gotta be prepared.”

“It’s an insurance adjuster not a sleazy car salesman, Lance.” Hunk sighed from the other end of the phone.

“You're right, they're _worse_!” Lance squawked, pacing a hole into his mother’s carpet. “I gotta watch every little thing I say in case he uses it against my mama to deny her claim!”

“They’re not going to deny her claim, Lance.” Hunk said, unaffected by his friend’s usual dramatics. “I mean, they could? Neither of us really know how insurance companies work.”

“You’re not helping.” Lance pouted, turning to look out the window.

Lance was standing in his childhood home, surrounded by pictures of his brothers and sisters and the awful musty smell of wet carpet. The night before, his mama had been washing the dishes in the dishwasher when the old thing finally died and puked dirty dish water all over the floor. Lance’s mama didn’t speak English all that well, so she had asked her favourite (shut up he was) son to help her out.

And now, the evil insurance company was sending an adjuster out. Probably to deny the claim because that's what they did. They were really good at denying claims and stealing people's hard-earned money.

“I dunno, I doubt they can deny _every_ claim that comes their way.” Hunk was usually the voice of panicked reasoning but right now he was wrong.  Very, very wrong.

“I’m ready for him, buddy. I'm not gonna let some smartass, probably old and gross insurance man fuck with my mama, even _if_ he had a hot voice.” His blue eyes narrowed as a black SUV pulled up outside the house. Altea Insurance was displayed prominently on the passenger’s side door in big, bold “fuck you we're a fucking insurance company and we do what we want” letters.

Okay so maybe he was projecting.

“Alright, he’s here in his big ass fancy SUV. I’m gonna be strong.”

“Damn right you are!” Hunk encouraged because he was a goddamn angel.

“I’m not gonna let him push me around.” Lance said determinedly, watching as someone got out of the car. He couldn’t see them well. The drivers side door was facing the house across the street. It looked like he was digging in the back seat for something. Probably his big denial stamp. They had those didn’t they? Probably well worn and used, asshole.

“I want to keep encouraging you but I’m afraid you might do something stupid.”

“This is for my mama, Hunk. She was so worried about this whole thing. They just finished renovating. I’m not gonna let her down. If my name isn’t Lance fucking Hernandez Martine-holy fuck he’s _gorgeous_.”

“Oh no. No. Lance do-“

Lance didn’t even hear him because there was a fucking gorgeous god walking up the path to the front door and-

“Shit! HUNK! Help me!”

“What? What’s going-“

“I’m wearing my Voltron shirt, Hunk! He’s going to think I’m a nerd!” He frantically looked around the room as if he could magically find a new shirt even though he didn’t live there anymore.

“You are a nerd, Lance.”

“He doesn’t need to _know_ that! Oh god, did I brush my teeth?!” He breathed into the palm of his hand. It didn’t smell like anything. What-

There was a quiet knock at the door.

“If he doesn’t like you for you then he’s not worth your time anyway.” Hunk said sagely just before Lance hung up on him. He didn’t have time for good advice, dammit!

Quickly checking himself in the mirror near the front door, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and opened it with feigned casualness. He could do this. He could be normal.

“Hi there.” The smoking hot insurance adjuster said with the kind of smile that would make models cry. “Are you Lance?”

Lance could feel his breath stutter in his throat. The man was tall. Taller than Lance’s six feet. There was a scar across his nose, giving him a dangerous aura. He had black hair with a shaved undercut and a white fringe at the front. It should have been weird, but Lance just wanted to pet it.

Oh, and speaking of petting? Yes. Please. Arms. And chest. And abs. And long, delicious legs.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus.

What was _happening_? There was no way someone could be this fucking hot. He was all of Lance’s wet dreams bundled up in a broad chest chiseled by the gods.

_‘Don’t mess this one up, Lance!’_

“Uhhhhhh….”

There was an awkward silence.

The man blinked when Lance failed to confirm his own name. He opened his mouth to say something, but Lance cut him off with the worst case of word vomit he’d ever had.

“Yes! Yes, I am he. Lance. I am Lance. Martinez. Lance Hernandez Martinez is my name. I didn’t ask for it but it’s the truth. This is my home. No, wait, it isn’t. Well, it was. But then I went to university. That’s not important. I’m stupid. Uhh…please come in.”

 _‘Hi, I’m Lance. I exist to make other people feel less embarrassed about themselves.’_ Lance thought with despair. How he hadn’t died of humiliation yet was one of life’s eternal mysteries.

The man blinked his stunning dark eyes and Lance could practically see his brain trying to process the words the Cuban just verbally punched him in the face with. Seriously? Was that eyeliner? HOLY SHI-

His brain stuttered to a stop as the man blessed him with an amused smile.

He wasn’t going to survive this encounter.

But, man, what a way to go.

Lance stepped back to let the attractive man-god into the house, closing the door behind him a little too forcefully when he caught a glimpse of that ass.

Lance had either done something really good in his past life or something really, _really_ bad. He closed his mouth with an audible clack as the man turned back towards him. He held out his large, and it was so _large_ , hand towards Lance. Apparently, Lance was on auto-pilot because he shook it without even realizing it.

“I know we talked on the phone before, but my name is Takashi Shirogane. You can call me Shiro. I’ll be your adjuster for this claim.”

Lance gave him his best impression of a cheap blow-up doll, mouth hanging open and eyes wide as he tried to think of something suave to say.

Shiro’s lips twitched into an almost-smile. “Is there somewhere we can sit down so I can take your statement?”

‘ _C’mon Lance. Be normal.’_

“Of course, yes! Please, have a seat.” Lance said, gesturing to the large couch taking up a majority of the living room.

Shiro gingerly sat down on the settee. Lance desperately wanted to sit beside him but that would be weird. It would be weird right?

He was gonna do it.

Heart pounding, Lance took a seat next to the stunning insurance adjuster. If Shiro thought it was strange, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled out his phone and held it up with a little shake.

“Do you mind if I record this?”

“You can record whatever you want.” Lance purred before he could stop himself.

Shiro chuckled, a slight blush tinting his cheeks and darkening the scar there.

Oh, damn. Lance was going to _die_.

Shiro turned on the recording app and set his phone down on the coffee table. From there, he proceeded to grill Lance on every detail of the incident. The entire time he was just so _nice_ , sympathizing with him and showing an outstanding amount of understanding and patience. It was a bit difficult to concentrate on how hot Shiro was when he was being so goddamn sweet. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to go over everything.

“Do you have a copy of the technician’s report for the dishwasher?” Shiro asked, turning off the recorder and slipping his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket. His arm brushed up against Lance’s sending electric sparks right into his heart.

Lance jumped to his feet as if scalded. “Let me grab it for you!”

He rushed into the kitchen, grimacing as the laminate flooring proceeded to vomit water all over his socks. Every time he thought it was dry, the damn floor decided to prove otherwise. He snatched the report from it’s place on the fridge and hopped back towards the living room. He was so busy focusing on his wet socks he didn’t notice Shiro had followed him until he crashed into the taller man.

With an awkward seagull cry, he flailed gracelessly before teetering over. Before he could hit the floor, strong arms wrapped around his waist and held him in place against Shiro's warm, broad chest. 

“Whoa, careful!” Shiro laughed, hands lingering a little too long to be normal.

Lance could feel his face heating up. “I just can’t help falling for you, big guy.”

Shiro snorted, blinking in surprise as if he hadn’t meant to do that. “Quite literally, it looks like.”

“What can I say, I’m a man of action.” Lance winked, handing him the report with a dramatic flourish.

Shiro gave him another one of those toe curling smiles. “Somehow I’m not surprised.” As his fingers closed around the papers, they brushed against Lance’s and he realized they were metal. Shiro had a prosthetic.

Could he get any more freaking badass?

While Shiro scanned a copy of the report with an app on his phone, Lance took the opportunity to just breathe. Holy crap, this guy was way, _way_ out of his league. Surely, he had a girlfriend or boyfriend or maybe a goddamn harem or _something_. Lance was just…Lance.

He snuck another peak at Shiro’s ass, before he realized the man had a small machine in his hand. He put it up against the floor, taking a picture of the readings he received from it.

“What is that?” Lance asked, curious.

“It’s called a moisture metre. It tells me how much moisture there is in the floor and walls.” Shiro replied, moving to another area for testing. He started taking photos all over the kitchen and living room where the water had spread. “It’s still pretty wet in here. We’re going to want to dry this out as quickly as possible so it doesn’t get moldy. We might be able to save the carpet if we do it fast enough, so long as the back hasn’t delaminated.”

Lance nodded slowly. “Does that mean we’re covered?”

Shiro gave him a blinding smile. “That you are. Subject to your deductible, though, sorry. I’ll make arrangements for a restoration contractor to come out here with their drying equipment, unless you have a preference on contractors?”

“No, no. We don’t really know any. We’ve never had a claim before.”

Shiro nodded. “That’s okay, I’m here to walk you through the process. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. Hopefully, you’ll never have to make another claim again, but if you do you’ll know next time.”

Lance kind of wished he could have a crap ton of claims if it meant Shiro was handling them.

God, he wanted Shiro to handle _him_.

Shiro choked, staring at him with wide eyes. His face was swiftly turning red.

Oh shit, Lance had said that out loud. 

“Uhhh…” he said eloquently, his own face heating up in embarrassment.

Shiro stared at him for a moment before his eyes hardened in resolve. He pulled out one of his business cards. “Here’s my card. It has my cell phone number on it.” He said slowly, giving Lance a shy look. “Call me _any time_.”

Lance took the card, trying to hide his shaking hand as he offered Shiro a brilliant smile. “I’m probably going to call you a lot.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Shiro made his way out the door. He paused on the threshold, giving Lance a thorough once over. “By the way, nice shirt.”

Lance watched that ass walk all the way back to the SUV, a goofy grin on his face.

Okay, maybe having a claim wasn’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to talk to me about Voltron on [Tumblr](http://eilera-chan.tumblr.com/). :)


End file.
